


Pick Me Up

by alex_kade



Series: MX Fanfic Bingo - Aug 2016 [1]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Brain Damage, Childhood Friends AU, Dreamscapes, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Monsta X Bingo, Prompt Fill, Stream of Consciousness, Time Skips, fic bingo, i didn't break the baby that bad, not permanent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-05
Updated: 2016-08-05
Packaged: 2018-07-29 13:23:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7686136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alex_kade/pseuds/alex_kade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Prompt:</b> Childhood Friends AU</p>
<p>Changkyun is lost in the memories of someone important, someone he <i>needs</i> to remember. Why can't he remember?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pick Me Up

**Author's Note:**

> You'd think with that prompt and the title that I'd do something silly or light or fluffy. NOP. I had to go do a dreamscape thing that's sort of all over the place and angsty and probs a little confusing because I'm doing it from the POV of a very damaged Changkyun, so his head's a little messed up at the moment. Sorry, not sorry?
> 
> (I will point out that when I sat down to write, this was supposed to be another Minhyuk angstfest, but suddenly Changkyun jumped in front of that whump bullet and went, 'NO, ME! I WANT TO TAKE THIS RIDE!' It's his own fault. Don't blame me. He wrecked his way into my headcanon and I was powerless to stop it.)

The first thing he was aware of was nothing, if one _could_ be aware of nothing. He couldn’t call it black because black was an actual color and this nothingness was everything that color wasn’t. It wasn’t frightening though because one couldn’t be afraid of nothing, so instead he simply let it wrap around him like...like…

_A soft, black leather jacket._

He could smell it, and just like that the nothing was gone. Instead he had a flash of memory of someone draping the jacket, old and worn and comfortable as down pillows, around his shoulders.

_“Oh, it looks good on you. Maybe you should keep it.”_

_“Nah, you wouldn’t be you without it, but thanks for letting me borrow it, hyung.”_

Hyung. Who was it? He couldn’t remember, and the more he tried to reach for it, the further it seemed to get. It was falling into the nothing, so far away; or maybe he was the one who was falling away from _it_. He couldn’t tell, but he reached out anyway in case he _was_ falling, hoping something, something, _something_ would catch his hand.

“I’m here.”

He opened his eyes-- _had they been closed?--_ and looked out across a dark ocean, its waves glittering in the light of a full moon.

“Changkyunnie? Are you with me?”

Was he with someone? He didn’t know. He didn’t see anyone, but his hand felt warm, a little tingly, and he could still smell the familiar scent of aged leather mixed with something else that told him it was supposed to remind him of home.

“H-hello?” he murmured. It was supposed to be more than a murmur. He was supposed to have shouted it, but for some reason his voice wasn’t working right. Or maybe his mouth wasn’t. Or his tongue. Nothing seemed to be doing anything that he wanted it to. Or maybe he’d just forgotten how to do it, whatever ‘it’ was. 

The tingling in his hand flared up even more, but he couldn’t seem to lift it to take a look. His fingers moved a little on his command. He at least achieved that much.

“Changkyunnie, can you hear me? Are you there?”

Yes? He was there, at the beach, alone but clearly not alone, chilly but not because he was wrapped up in that jacket. Someone had given him the jacket. Temporarily. He would give it back. When he remembered who to give it back to.

_“Ya, wait up!”_

_“Ah, you’re too slow, hyung! Hurry or we’ll miss it!”_

Changkyun turned his head--he remembered now that he _was_ Changkyun--to see two young boys running across the sand. The little one scrambled up onto a huge rock, slipped, but the older caught him from underneath and boosted him up the rest of the way. 

_“Pick me up!”_ the older asked, reaching his hand up to the small child who couldn’t possibly be strong enough to pull the boy onto the rock.

_“No, hyung, you’re too heavy. Do it yourself.”_

_“You’re so mean to mean, Changkyun.”_

Changkyun startled to hear his name. Was that him? Was that him watching this older boy struggle to scale the rock wall until he, too, made it to the top, settling with a disgruntled huff beside him? He didn’t remember...and yet he must have because otherwise he wouldn’t have been seeing this. He wouldn’t have been seeing the older boy’s sour face pull up into a smile as the first light of the sun’s rays began to peek over the horizon, or feel the way his hand came up to rest on his shoulder and pull him against his side. Yes, yes, he _did_ remember this, remembered doing this a lot, for years, always the same rock, always the same two boys, always the same goal to catch the moment when the day began anew, and to reflect on what the world might bring them with its birth.

He remembered they hadn’t done it in a long time.

He remembered that it made him sad.

He remembered being angry.

He remembered being in a fight, a fight with the older boy.

He could _not_ remember who the older boy was.

His hand tingled again. He looked down in time to see a raindrop land on his knuckles. Odd, the sky had seemed so clear.

“Please, Changkyunnie, please come back. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry.”

Thunder boomed overhead and dark clouds opened up to let a torrent of rain fall down around him, striking the sand in soft little thuds that left craters in his perfect beach. The boys on the rock squealed and laughed and ran for cover, holding each other tight and ducking their heads as if that would somehow keep them more dry. 

Changkyun smiled and merely flipped up the hood on his leather jacket. He couldn’t get up anyway. His legs weren’t working. 

Oh! But his hands! He’d flipped up the hood! He could move his hands!

He held the one that tingled in front of his face and flexed his fingers, balling them into a fist–

_“I’ve got you.”_

He opened his eyes. Again. He was on the ground, hard ground, pavement-- _where had the sand gone?--_ only to find his hand gripped tightly in that of the older boy’s. Much older now. Not adults though, but not children either. Still closer to children than adults. The boy’s lip was bleeding.

_“Pick me up,”_ Changkyun said. He did say it. But yet he didn’t. He was still just watching, observing, letting the memory play out, but now from the inside, hearing his own voice saying the words but not quite being a part of it.

He was hefted onto his feet by the older boy, dark eyes filled with concern as he dusted off Changkyun’s clothes and looked him over.

_“Are you hurt?”_

_“Mostly my pride. Thanks, hyung.”_

The older boy looked upset. _“It could’ve been worse. Tell me next time. You know I’ll have your back.”_

And he did. Changkyun remembered that he did, always making sure people didn’t bully him, people besides his hyung, anyway. That memory made Changkyun snort. His hyung bullied him relentlessly, but Changkyun gave as good as he got. They were brothers. It was natural.

Was that it? Was the older boy his brother?

...No...no, that didn’t feel quite right. Hyung but not brother. Almost. They were almost brothers. Had been as long as he could remembered. How long was that? He couldn’t remember much, but he knew that much.

Why couldn’t he remember his name?

Why could he remember that his hyung was always there for him until he wasn’t?

Why could he remember the anger and the loneliness but not remember who it was for?

_“You’re bleeding.”_

Changkyun watched as his hyung reached a hand towards his face, up towards his brow, and wanted to laugh and point out that the older boy was bleeding too, but the second those gentle fingers touched his skin it felt like fire was spreading across his temple, its searing tendrils crawling into his skull and cracking it open like a militant squad of vices all turning in sync.

He cried out. _He_ cried out, his actual self, not a memory of himself.

The tingling in his hand vanished. No, not vanished, wrenched away.

The smell of the leather grew faint.

The nothingness returned.

Changkyun really wished it wouldn’t.

~~~~~

“Don’t do that again. You scared me.”

Changkyun glanced over at his friend and shrugged. “I didn’t mean to.”

They were back at the beach, the two of them, their adult selves, sitting on the rock in the darkness and waiting for the sun to rise. Changkyun was wearing the leather jacket, his mildly throbbing head pillowed on his hyung’s shoulder, their fingers intertwined as if they were both afraid to let go. Passersby would probably think they were a couple. Changkyun didn’t care. He knew his hyung didn’t either. They were too close to be concerned with paranoid thoughts about their image.

“Do you remember me yet?” his hyung asked after they’d stared at the water for awhile.

Changkyun sighed. “No. Yes and no. I remember what I need to. I think.”

The older boy nodded sadly and remained quiet for awhile. “The sun should be rising by now, shouldn’t it?”

It wasn’t. Changkyun shrugged again. “Does it need to? I don’t mind this. It’s quiet in the dark, and my head doesn’t hurt as much.”

“I’m sorry. This was my fault.”

“Why? I hit you.”

He did. He remembered he did. Why such small details? Why remember those? Why not the biggest ones?

“I deserved it,” his hyung said sadly. “I should’ve been there. I should’ve been left on the ground. I shouldn’t have asked you pick me up.”

Changkyun nuzzled further into his shoulder. “It was my turn.”

It _was_ his turn. It would be his turn for a million more times around the karma wheel. His hyung was always there, always helping him, always watching out for him, buying him things, taking him on adventures, teaching him new skills, listening when Changkyun needed to cry. Then he wasn’t. He wasn’t, he wasn’t, and it made Changkyun feel so alone.

Such a child still. An adult but still a child, throwing a tantrum because his best friend went away to further his career. Selfish. Not his hyung, but him. Selfish to think his friend would have the time to visit, to call, to write, selfish to want things to stay the way they were, the way they always had been. Selfish, but no less painful, no less painful when Changkyun reached out his hand, and for the first time in their lives, his hyung didn’t take it.

_“I’m sorry, Changkyunnie. I can’t come. I’m not even in the country.”_

Changkyun dropped his hand away from his eyes as he paced the hospital lounge. His head still hurt. It hurt a little more than before. The lights were too bright and the smell was too stale and all the goddamn beeps were nailing into his brain. He felt like he was really there, not a memory of being there but actually there. The only thing that made it better was that subtle hint of leather and home.

He wasn’t wearing the jacket. He wasn’t at home. His friend wasn’t even there. He was hundreds of miles away, only reachable through airwaves traveling between phones.

_“She’s practically your mom, too. Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”_

_“Yes, Changkyun, of course, and I am worried, and I’ll definitely come visit when I get back, but I can’t right now. She’s going to be okay. The doctors said so. Look, I gotta go. I’ll call you back later, okay? Just calm down. Everything’s going to be fine.”_

It wasn’t fine. It wasn’t fine. There were complications and it wasn’t fine. Not for awhile at least. Things weren’t fine for awhile and his hyung didn’t come. Changkyun had been a complete emotional mess and his friend hadn’t come. Not until it was over. Not until things _were_ fine and Changkyun didn’t need him anymore. He’d picked his own damn self up. And he was pissed.

_“How is she?”_

Changkyun spun around and had to shield his eyes from the sun. So bright. Why was it so damn bright?

_“You don’t get to ask me that.”_

He saw his friend standing there at the edge of park, the park that stood between their childhood homes, the one they’d crossed every day to meet each other before dashing off to the beach. It was a space they shared between them. Now it was an expanse of grass that kept them apart. Changkyun wanted it to stay that way.

_“Changkyunnie.”_

_“No! You don’t care about us anymore! Your stupid job and your stupid money and stupid need to get your name in the news somewhere is all you care about! You’re too important for us now! Stay away from us!”_

He didn’t. He didn’t stay away. He just kept walking forward and it pissed Changkyun off even more. His head hurt. It hurt and he couldn’t see because the sun was too damn bright, but he felt his feet move. He felt them move, felt them pound into the dirt as he ran and ran and ran until he finally crashed right into his friend. He hit him. He hit him and hit him and hit him.

His hyung didn’t hit back. 

Changkyun hit him until the older couldn’t even stand on his own two feet anymore, just sat there in the grass in his damn leather jacket he’d had since they were in high school together, the blood on his face failing to hide the sadness and guilt in his tired eyes. Tired. He looked so damn tired. Exhausted even. Bordering on empty. Changkyun hadn’t seen it before then, but he was seeing it now. It drained the anger out of him faster than pulling a plug on a sink and replaced it with a well of concern.

_“Are you okay?”_

Silly question to ask after he’d just beat him into the ground.

His friend looked up at him and a tear cleared a path of salt through the blood on his cheek. _“No.”_

And Changkyun knew he wasn’t talking about the beating, and it was enough, it was enough to make him completely forget about his anger and his loneliness and his own bitter pain because his friend-- _dammit, what was his name?!--_ was in more pain than he’d ever seen him in and Changkyun realized that not once, not _once_ in all the phone calls or emails or texts did he ever ask if his hyung was okay. He wondered how long he hadn’t been okay for, how long he’d been letting whatever was eating at him continue to gnaw on his soul, how alone _he_ must have felt with his best friend doing nothing but criticizing him each time they talked.

_“Nevermind,”_ his hyung said, shaking his head as if the action could erase what he’d just revealed. _“Pick me up?”_

He held his hand up towards Changkyun, reaching out, a desperate smile on his face, one that begged to reconnect. Changkyun stepped forward, leaned down, wrapped his hand around his friend’s wrist, and–

“Easy, easy, I’m here. Changkyunnie, I’m here. Just breathe, okay? Hold on one second and it’ll be over.”

Oh god, his head hurt, it hurt so bad he could hardly breathe, but his face was buried in soft leather and strong arms were wrapped around his back, fingers rubbing soothing circles on his skin.

Changkyun gasped, his own fingers clutching tightly at the familiar jacket as slowly, far too slowly, the pain began to ebb away and he felt his muscle begin to go lax all on their own.

“There we go. Are you okay now? Is that better?”

He wanted to say yes, but all that came out was some sort of affirmative grunt. 

“You want to lay back down?”

Changkyun shook his head. He wanted to stay right where he was. He was happy where he was. Safe. Comfortable. Warm. Home.

“Okay.”

Okay.

~~~~~

“You kept it?” Changkyun asked, looking up at his friend in complete exasperation.

Hyung smiled. “I figured you might want it as a souvenir.”

He leaned over and placed the baseball on the bedside table. Changkyun picked it up, held it for a second before it slipped from his fingers. His grip was a mess. It didn’t matter. Hyung bent down and picked it up for him, put it in his lap.

Changkyun smiled. “I should put it in one of those special cases.”

“Those are for signed balls.”

“Sign it then.”

Grinning, his friend reached for the ball, the ball that had nearly knocked the brains out of Changkyun’s head in just a fluke accident at the park, grabbed a marker off the whiteboard tray, and scribbled something across the dirty white leather. He held it out for Changkyun to see.

_Remember._

Changkyun frowned, squinted his eyes, felt his head begin to throb. What did it say? What did the damn name say? 

Goddammit, the nothing was coming back. Not now. Now now. He was so damn close!

“That’s it. Come on, Changkyunnie. Time to wake up.”

Oh, not the nothing, not nothing but instead fuzzy white light and a blurred face and a hand in his and the smell of old leather.

“Are you okay? Does your head hurt?”

Changkyun blinked. His head did hurt, but not so bad, not like before. He shook it a little, testing it out. He winced, but it was tolerable, not like before. 

“Do you want anything? Water? Ice cream? I can turn the tv onto the channel you like?”

Channel? He liked a channel? Had he watched tv already? He didn’t remember.

“No,” he croaked, and managed to squeeze his friend’s hand tighter. “Stay.”

“Yeah?” His hyung looked a little startled, some form of...hope? shining through otherwise dull eyes. “Changkyun? Are you really there this time?”

This time? What did that mean?

“Yes?”

His hyung’s hand went to his mouth for a second. His perfect mouth. It wasn’t bruised or swollen or anything that should’ve come after the beating Changkyun had given him.

“Do you know who I am?” he dared to ask.

Changkyun furled his brow. He did. He did know. He mostly knew. If only he’d been able to see the name on the damn ball. Ah, it was so frustrating, so frustrating he could feel his own tears stinging his eyes with his efforts.

“I want to,” he choked out. “Hyung?”

He was scared, scared that he didn’t know even though he wanted to know, scared that he had no idea how long he’d been there, how many times they’d talked or not talked and he couldn’t remember.

“Shhh, shhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay, you’ll remember,” his friend soothed, running a finger in a swirling pattern over the back of the hand that was clenched in his. “This is good though. You’re doing good today. You’re doing so good.”

“Will I forget?” Changkyun dared to ask.

His friend bit his lip. “Maybe. I don’t know. We haven’t talked like this before. Try to remember, okay? Try to remember and tell me about it next time you wake up.”

Changkyun nodded. He could do that. He could remember a simple conversation. He could remember being afraid. It was easy. It should be easy. Just latch on and don’t let go. Easy as that.

~~~~~

“Changkyunnie? Are you awake?”

Changkyun groaned, tried to roll over, remembered that he couldn’t because it tugged at the IV tube in his arm. He needed that tube. It’s what kept the pain away.

“No,” he grumbled.

“Yes you are,” his friend laughed softly. “Can you answer one question for me? Just one?”

“...Fine.”

“Do you remember?”

Remember what?

~~~~~

“Are we here for real this time?” Changkyun asked as they sat on the rock watching the sun rise. At least it was rising. It was rising and it didn’t hurt his eyes to look at it.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

Changkyun threw a broken shell into the water. “I don’t know. I can’t tell. I can never tell. I can’t remember things. I don’t know what’s real anymore.”

“Getting beaned in the head with a baseball will do that to you.”

“See? Why do I remember that? Aren’t you not supposed to remember what caused your brain damage?”

“You don’t remember. You remember that I told you about it. You never saw it coming.”

Changkyun rolled his eyes. “I remember everything else.”

“Do you?”

“No, not really.”

“Do you remember me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you remember me?”

“Yes.”

“Changkyun, do you remember me?”

How many times did he have to say it?

“Yes.”

Yes! Oh, god! Yes, he did! He did! He really di–

~~~~~

“Wonho!” he blurted out. It was loud. He could tell it was loud even before his hyung jerked his head so fast off his lap that he tipped his chair backwards, landing with a hard thud on the floor.

“Changkyun?” he asked, scrambling up to his knees to find his friend’s hand again.

“Wonho!” Changkyun said again, laughing as the word rolled off his tongue. “You’re Wonho.”

“Yes, yes!” Wonho cried, openly cried. He didn’t try to scrub away the tears. “Please remember. Please don’t forget. Don’t forget me this time. Please, Changkyun, don’t forget me.”

“Never, no, never,” Changkyun affirmed. “I never forgot. I just...couldn’t remember.”

Wonho shook his head. He didn’t know what that meant. Of course he wouldn’t. It didn’t matter. Changkyun knew what it meant. He hadn’t forgotten, he really hadn’t. Wonho was the _only_ thing he kept remembering. There were just...blanks. But not now. Not now. He remembered. He remembered everything that mattered. At least he thought he did. If he didn’t, he was sure Wonho would help him. He always did. Wonho always took care of him. He was his best friend. He would _always_ be his best friend. Why he had ever questioned that in the first place was beyond him. It was something he would never question again.

~~~~~

“Ya, pick me up!”

Wonho grinned down at him. “Do it yourself, lazy ass.”

“Come one, my arms are still weak.”

“Baby.”

“Jerk.”

Wonho leaned down over the rock edge and hauled Changkyun up. “Fuck, you’re heavy. You could help a little, you know?”

Changkyun chuckled as he clambered up into a sitting position beside his friend. “I really can’t. Motor function’s still a little shitty.”

“You doing your therapy?”

“About as much as you’re doing your homework.”

Wonho slanted his eyes at him for a second before he burst into laughter. “We’re both fucked.”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

They settled in to stare at the starlight glinting off the water for a little bit, and when Changkyun shivered in the night air, Wonho did as expected and wrapped his jacket around the younger’s shoulders.

“You really should just keep it,” he stated for the millionth time.

Changkyun smirked. “But then I wouldn’t get to see your annoyed face anymore every time you give it to me.”

“You’re such a punk.”

“You’re the idiot who puts up with me.”

“Ah, you got me there.”

Another comfortable silence passed between them, long enough where Changkyun began to get a little anxious as he stared out at the water.

“It’s real,” Wonho told him quietly. “The sun’ll be up soon.”

Changkyun was glad it _was_ still dark as he felt a slight flush hit the tips of his ears. The first several days they had come there after his escape from the hospital had been terrifying, with him almost going into a panic that it was all just in his scrambled head again. Wonho was there every time though, always assuring him, sitting beside him until it was time to go back home, talking to him the entire way back so that he’d _remember_ going back home. No flashes, no time skips, no suns that refused to rise, just the struggle of trying to become a whole person again after taking a good knock to the head. He was okay, or he would be after a while. He would get there. _He_ would get there.

“Hyung?” he asked as he leaned his head down on Wonho’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

Wonho shifted beside him, getting himself more comfortable. “Stressed out, a little worried about starting over again, worried about _you_ , mostly.”

“But are you okay?”

A thoughtful silence, another shift in position, a heavy sigh. “I don’t hate my life so much now that I’m going to let you break my face again, if that’s what you mean.”

Changkyun nodded and reached over to grab Wonho’s hand, pulling it into his lap. “Good. I don’t _want_ to break your face again.”

“You don’t want to break your head again.”

“That, too.”

They chuckled lightly as the water began to light up with the waking of the sun. They were both still a mess, a catastrophe leaning on another catastrophe, but at least they came as a pair. They had a long way to go before they’d truly be okay, but as long as they stuck by each other, eventually they’d be strong enough where they wouldn’t _need_ the other to pick them up. They would just stand up and walk together. As equals. As friends. As two parts of a whole. And they would never _ever_ forget it.

_~The End~_


End file.
